Take What You Can, Give Nothing Back
by theicesculpture
Summary: About the girl who 'takes' the lovely Captain Jack Sparrow
1. A Certain Distressin' Damsel

**Authors note: Yes, it's been a while… Around two years but I'm back with an obsession with Captain Jack Sparrow. So sue me. **

"Alex is a carrot top." Nicole taunted from the other side of the table.

I acted like I hadn't heard and concentrated more on the story which everyone had to write in this lesson. I liked writing stories, even if it did make my hand ache and a lot of the stuff I wrote I ended up crossing out. I liked this story much more than any of my other ones, not that I told anyone that I wrote stories during my free time because then they'd tease me even more than they already did. Mine was about a country where being a grown up was illegal and all of the grown ups were forced to leave or gunned down, leaving only children left to rule the country. I especially liked one of my characters I'd made, she was my age and was the one who started the rebellion against grown ups. I got an ache in my chest from the amount of wishing that I were her that I'd been doing. My teacher Miss Hort (I'd always thought she had a funny name) always said she liked reading my stories, even though I was sure she couldn't read half of it. I scribbled down a few more sentences.

"Ginger-minger." She whispered again. I scowled.

"Alex!"

My head shot up, I couldn't help it because it happens to everyone when they hear their name. It was the boy sitting next to her called Joe.

"She was talking to you!" He hissed.

Like I hadn't noticed that she was talking to me. I was the only person with ginger hair in the entire school. I hated that girl. Why did everyone treat her like she was the royalty? What made her any better than the rest of us? In fact, being nasty to other people should make her worse than the rest of us but then if I said that I would be thinking that I was better than her which just makes me as low.

"Really?" I asked but I don't think he got that I was being sarcastic because he laughed like I was unworthy of even speaking to her. Nicole had him completely underneath her control, he would do anything she told him to because apparently she was going to marry him when they were older, which was stupid because our class is made up of ten or eleven year olds.

"Yes, ginger. She actually will look at you for a few seconds."

I felt my face go red with anger.

"Aww, look." She squealed like I was some cute fluffy animal in a zoo she was looking at. "Her face now matches her hair!"

I struggled to find a reply. She looked perfect, she acted like what everyone but me thought was perfect, what was there for me to say back to her?

"Shut up." I mumbled.

"Class, I want you all to concentrate - I don't know why you all think you need to talk, this is individual work." Miss Hort called out and most of us stopped speaking, "I want you working in absolute silence!"

Then the noise stopped.

At break time I sat on the damp wooden chair by myself watching my so-called 'classmates' play. Ever since my friend had left school I'd began to dread it and feel more and more alone. I used to be one of them a few years ago. They used to treat me like one of them before Nicole moved to our school. I used to be able to join in with their games and work in groups with them instead of being ignored – or worse. At least I'd rather be alone than be around Nicole and her gang of followers. Which wasn't good because they were heading over to where I was and one of them was holding the bucket that the cleaner uses. I pretended not to see them, which was good because I was good at pretending and told myself that they were going to talk to somebody else. I heard them come closer to me until they were in a circle around me and the bench. I had to force myself to remember to breathe.

"Alex." One of them said and I looked up without thinking again. I really would have to stop that.

"Ohmygod, your hair's on fire!" Nicole shouted and I put a hand on top of my head without thinking but it wasn't hot or anything. "Put it out! Put it out!" She screamed urgently.

Then Joe grabbed the bucket, I stood up and tried to move and was about to push past one of them when he reached forwards with a horrible grin and poured it all over my head. All of the cold wet soapy water drenched my face before running down my clothes and soaking them too. The soap was stinging my eyes and felt like somebody was burning acid on them, they fell up with tears. I tried to hold them back but then Nicole saw them and started laughing and saying something about the poor baby that was me and the wet clothes stuck to my skin. I became so angry I felt like my head would explode. I knew I couldn't do anything back to her (like punch her pretty face) without getting into trouble, and so did she, and that just made me more angry. So the tears overflowed from my eyes and I ran.

I ran until I knew that they couldn't see me. I ran until I had my hiding place behind one of the sheds. I knew no one could hear me but I still felt a need to quieten the angry sobs. I was crouched behind one of the wooden walls of the shed will all of the toys in, squashed between that and the fence that surrounded the whole of the school. My fists were clenched and I could feel my stomach moving roughly in and out with each of my breaths. I was beginning to shiver with coldness and the wind made the wet patches of me even colder. I whipped my head around just to double check that no one was there and a wet strand of my hair stung my face. I needed to release all of this anger before my hair did truly set on fire. My little 'joke' caused my fury to reach its boiling point and I kicked the back of the shed. It didn't hurt my foot. It didn't damage the shed because the plank of wood just bounced back to where it was before. So I did it again.

And again.

I leant my head against the car door.

Later on Miss Hort had found me when she realised that I wasn't in lesson. I didn't realise that the banging was loud enough for them to find me but I didn't get into trouble for it. Miss Hort was usually quite strict but she saw the state that I was in and led me inside the staff room. I had always wondered what the inside of the staff room actually looked like but now it didn't matter to me at all. She told me to sit down on a comfy chair so I did. She then gave me a hot-chocolate with marshmallows in it and the nice cream on top. I made sure that I didn't have a cream moustache because I was reasonably calm at this point. I had got rid of my anger and now I was just very disappointed that somebody I knew would do what they did to somebody else. It just made me even more sad that the something they did happened to be me. Miss Hort sat down too, after phoning my mum. She put on a nice voice and asked who did this to me. She saw a tear drop from my eye and told me that if I didn't want to say now I didn't have to. She then leant forwards and told me that she knew who did it and either way they were going to get into serious trouble because no one should be able to get away with that behaviour, especially in our school.

I knew that Miss Hort did not actually see who did it but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. I got to have the rest of the day off school because my clothes were that wet. My mum asked me angrily who did it but I told her that I didn't want to talk about it and that the people who did it - I winced at the memory that already seemed to have happened so long ago - were being dealt with. I told her as nicely as I could that I needed some time to myself.

During this time I decided to - yet again - re-watch the first Pirates Of The Caribbean, which had to be one of my favourite films of all time. Captain Jack Sparrow could always make me smile even when I didn't think that I could smile. I settled into the sofa with my cow-patterned blanket and chocolate.

For the next two hours all my mind was on was the film. It was better than therapy for cheering me up. I even joined raising my class when Jack said 'Take what you can' and replied 'Give nothing back'. Unlike last time when I watched this film one of the scenes stood out for me in particular:

_What a ship is, what the Black Pearl really is, is freedom._

When that film finished I decided to re-watch Dead Man's Chest so that I could fully understand the story which I'd only started to really get a few months ago. Then it got to the part that I really couldn't stand; the part where Jack was sat in the lifeboat sailing away before deciding to return. Then when he returned and Elizabeth Swan near enough killed him.

I'd never liked her, even during the first film, she'd always seemed like too much of a girl to me. There was just something about her character that irritated me. Maybe I was just jealous. Jealous of an imaginary character because she was on board the ship that sailed towards freedom. If I had Jack's compass surely that would be what it would point to.

I didn't want to watch Jack make the decision that would lead to his death. I would give anything to save him if he was real. I would also show the 'noble' Elizabeth Swan. I closed my eyes and imagined just what it would be like - it hurt worse than before when I wanted to escape into my own world - and pictured myself there, saving Jack Sparrow.

I squeezed my eyelids tighter and made myself remember to breathe.

Authors note: I promise that although Alex is only ten (at the moment) she will age pretty fast, and this story will become WAY more interesting and less childish. Wow I had to revisit my childhood whilst trying to write this.

**Why are children so mean to each other? **

**Comments are stimuli (have I even used that word correctly? :/) for my inspiration to write…**


	2. That God Forsaken Spit Of Land

When I was six years old my mother had taken me to see a therapist because I would have these 'delusions' (as the therapist called them). I never liked that therapist, he was scarily thin and would peer at my face over the top of his overly large glasses in a superior way. He thought that it was a strange reaction to the disappearance of my father, who vanished when I was three. I couldn't even remember him. I thought of these 'delusions' more like very real daydreams. Both he and my mother said that they were unhealthy and that I had to stop doing it but it wasn't like I did it on purpose. I guess I enjoyed them a little too much as well. They were an escape from my life into a great imaginary world where I was free. My best one would have probably been the time when I flew around Neverland and helped slay some of the bad pirates. I didn't need a therapist to notice that the real-dreams only happened when I felt desperate or miserable and needed an escape. I hadn't had any of the real-dreams for a couple of years now, which is why I was caught off guard when I knew I wasn't sat on my sofa at home anymore.

I could smelt salt and feel the rhythm of something underneath me bobbing up and down. I was sat in a small wooden boat but that wasn't what thrilled me the most. Warm brown eyes outlined with black were staring back into mine in confusement. I knew those eyes!

"Eghh!" The man blurted out in surprise and jumped backwards, I stared at his little plated beard moving up and down when he exclaimed this. I gazed in awe at his puffy sleeves, red bandanna and boots and grinned because sat across from me was the one-and-only Captain Jack Sparrow. The fact that we were both in the little get-away boat that I didn't have a name for didn't take much of the thrill away from it either. He dropped his compass in surprise. A few seconds late he scrunched his eyes tighly shut before re-opening them again.

"Still there..." He muttered to himself whilst still staring at me. Then he slowly and cautiously reached forwards his arm and extended one of his fingers decorated with rings and poked my arm before retreating his arm back. I figured he was just making sure that I was real, just like I wanted to make sure that he was real. His face was so close, if I moved forwards a few small steps I'd be sat on him in real (or not so real) life.

"How the bloody hell did you get there?"

I smiled, his voice was pleasant for my ears to hear. I'd always had a thing for his voice and I let the unusual way he pronounced his words work over my body, like a massage. Then I remembered that he was asking me a question.

"Err..." Was my great reply.

He frowned at the same time that his eyes widened, which shouldn't happen - but this was Captain Jack Sparrow, he had a way of waking impossible possible. He leant forwards again and pinched the sleeves of the top that I was wearing. I guessed that considering when Pirates of the Caribbean was set, what, two or three hundred years ago he'd never seen any clothing like this. I owed him an explanation.

"Ahh!" He said and I got the impression that he'd just realised something. "I bet you jumped off my boat didn't you?" He nodded forwards to the legendary Black Pearl that was quite a way back behind me. "Talking of which, I need to be off."

_The Kracken._ It was in the process of taking down The Pearl. "Or do I..." He murmured to himself again and reached down to grab his compass. I was smiling now, it was all so familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. He flicked open the case and was no doubt watching the pin whiz around in circles.

"Don't go back," I begged, realising that his decision had come. "You'll regret it if you do."

He raised his eyebrows and sauntered forwards.

"And why might that be?"

"You'd die if you did."

"Ahh! All the more reason for me to be off then." He paused for a few seconds before adding in a deeper voice. "How did you know?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

"Err..."

He began to rotate the oars with ease to make us go closer the land that I had to squint at to see in the distance.

"You know," he lowered his voice again, "you've not been very good at answering some of my questions." He paused again and looked behind him to where the land was. "In fact - you've not answered any of my questions at all." He turned around looked at me and before adding to himself, "Why might that be?"

I struggled for an answer.

"Why are you, a young female girl - and one which is not yet at the stage of being an enjoyable female girl - on my ship in strange clothing?"

"I, umm... I can't tell you." I didn't say that I couldn't tell him because I myself didn't know. He through up his arms in frustration.

"WHY NOT?"

I decided to use a similar logic to what he uses and to say it very quickly so hopefully he wouldn't spot any flaws in it.

"Well, if I told you the answer to that last question I would be telling you the answer to the other question and that is the question which I cannot tell you the answer to which means that I cannot answer your question."

His eyes narrowed and stared suspiciously at me. I felt my confidence rise.

"Please don't tell me that you're my daughter." He begged, looking seriously worried. I laughed.

"No, I'm not your daughter."

He hesitated and leant forwards again, before adding with a wince "Granddaughter?"

I shook my head with amusement. Another wave made our little boat bob up and down again. He rowed faster.

"I can assure you that I am almost certain that we are not related at all."

"Only almost certain?" He looked worried again. I sighed.

"Look, I know who my father is, and even if I didn't, where I come from..." I paused trying to think of a way to say this, "I come from a land which you can't sail to."

He raised his eyebrows to show that he was impressed.

"Or walk to," I added just for his benefit "or fly to."

"Sounds like a challenge." He flashed his teeth and then the memory of what I just said resurfaced. "Wait... Fly?"

Crap. I'd just made another mistake.

"Are there no birds there then?"

"Yes -"

"But how-"

"They were there before so they didn't need to fly to get there."

He looked down.

"You're not making any sense, child."

I sighed again.

"What I meant was that bird from this land - err... Sea, cannot fly there."

"Why can't the female species make all of our lives much simpler and just say what they mean?"

I frowned and silently agreed with him, even though what he said didn't make me happy. His last comment had lowered my confidence level again. I glanced at the dark water and almost smiled at the way the sun caught the top of the ripples and waves and make it look as if the sea was dancing around our his boat.

"Anyway, we're getting off topic." I jerked my head towards where I presumed his beloved sinking ship was.

"Yes we are!"

I frowned again. He actually agreed with me?

"I haven't finished asking questions - and you still haven't answered any of them... Except that now all I know about you is that you are not my daughter." Since he couldn't gesture with his hands (they were still rowing) he seemed to gesture more wildly than usual with his eyes. He opened them wider and looked to the left then to the right. "What is you're purpose here - on my ship?"

_Ship? _

"I don't really know."

He leant forwards yet again and chunks of his hair swung forwards too. "You don't know?"

"No." I mumbled.

"Let's make this clear, shall we?" He straightened up again and held his head high. "I am Captain of this ship, therefore I am in charge and you must do what or as I say because whilst on board you must obey the Captain, savvy?"

I nodded and was about to point out that this was hardly a 'ship' but Jack's expression suddenly changed and his mouth fell open. His muddy brown eyes were focused in horror at something behind us and a sort of whimper came out of his mouth.

It was the end of The Black Pearl.

He kept on rowing.

Eventually, we arrived at the land in the distance. To say the least Jack was not pleased.

"WHY DO I FIND MYSELF - ONCE AGAIN- STUCK ON THIS GOD FORSAKEN SPIT OF LAND!" He shouted in his rich voice whilst jumping up and down on the pure white sand, leaving a huge trail of deep footprints following him. This went on for around five minutes before he paused, and smiled so that his eyes lit up.

"Rum!"

I watched him run back to where I was stood with his arms flailing around madly by his sides. To think that somebody moved like that when they were sober was a scary thought.

"We have rum!" He announced triumphantly, then his eyes all of a sudden lost their shine and he plonked himself down in defeat and dangerously muttered with anger "that Elizabeth Swan..." Then he jumped up again and hopped more frequently than before whilst chanting "BUGER! BUGER! BUGER!" Listening to his voice echoing and bouncing soothed my brain, like a similar effect to feasting on ice cream. I giggled at his and he turned to face me and stormed towards me, sending sand flying in all directions.

"Is this amusing you, child?"

I could see why he was angry. Really, this was the third time he'd ended up stuck on this island and this time (after last time) Elizabeth Swan had burnt the rum. And here I was laughing at him. I decided to show him how amusing he was. I began to jump up and down on the sand, making sure to madly wave my arms around. I put on my best 'man voice' and shouted,

"Buger! Buger! Buger!" I stopped and looked pointedly at him. He crossed his arms and I watched the wind ruffle his puffy sleeves.

"Are you sure that she burnt all of the rum?" I asked, doing my best to sound as nice as possible. He paused to think, then raised a finger and ran off yet again. I sat down and waited for his return, secretly hoping that he didn't notice that I knew why the rum had gone

I was bored. Very Bored. The sun was at the highest point I've ever seen it in the sky and there were no clouds at all to tone the heat down a little. It was the opposite of the usual English whether that I was used to getting. I sat down and wiggled my toes in the pale smooth sand, just like I did those few times when all of my family went on a trip to the beach. I gazed into the now bright blue clear water but I couldn't spot any fish swimming around like they did in Finding Nemo in the coral reefs. The only thing I could see down there was more sand a few small lonely rocks. My mouth began to water at the thought of all the water we usually back at home then all of the sudden the water in my mouth ran out and my tongue was the driest I'd ever felt it. I knew that drinking salt water made you thow-up and so it would be stupid to drink the salt water. The idea of drinking rum from the dirt-covered bottles was even beginning to appeal to me. For the first time in my whole life I was desperate to go home.

Authors note: Do you have any idea how much effort I put into trying to make this believable and not cheesy? Believe me – it was a lot.


	3. One Question About Your Business

**Authors note: Sorry, this is just a filler.**

Do you know that feeling that you get when you first wake up after a long time of sleeping? That feeling that your mind's been in a far away place for who knows how long, and that there is no way of telling how long it has been? That feeling of refreshment and resurfacing, or even sadness that you've landed back in reality?

I had that feeling when I appeared back on the sofa in my living room.

I was staring at the television screen that was still supposed to be playing. The little triangle button was flashing in the bottom right corner of the DVD player, showing that it was on 'play' mode and yet the screen was still. Except it wasn't. After staring at it for a few more minutes I could see some of the ruffles on Jack's shirt twitch every now and then as if there was a very slow wind. Then his eyes gradually began to shut themselves. It reminded me of the time that I watched a film and kept pressing the pause button literally every second because we didn't have a slow motion button. I frowned and peered at the screen again before grabbing the DVD remote and pointing it at the screen and pushed in the 'play' button just to be sure. It had no effect. It was going to take Jack a few minutes to even blink but the film still refused to play in anything but what seemed like slow motion - so I gave up.

I would have to go to my ukulele lesson soon anyway and I was dying of thirst and starvation. Maybe that was a slight exaggeration... But only slight. In my real-dreams it was like real-life, my eyesight was just as clear, my hearing worked exactly the same and all my other senses were just as strong as in real-life. Which is why after being out in the sun in my real-dream for so long my skin had a layer of sweat settling in and my throat felt like sandpaper. I knew better than to tell my mother about it, she'd been very pleased when she'd heard that I hadn't had any of the 'delusions' for so long and she would probably force me to see the therapist again. I didn't want to risk it.

I enjoyed playing the ukulele, it didn't seem so hard to play as a normal guitar and it fit my arms way better than a normal guitar did. It was another way to distract myself from reality without having to leave it. I'd been playing for around three years so I was pretty good - or so my teacher kept telling me. He also kept trying to make me to take up playing an actual guitar but I told him 'maybe later', to me they were still too hard and I'd only just started to find playing the ukulele easy. Of course I wasn't anyway near as good as he was, but, as I said earlier, for my age I was pretty good.

The lessons were held in what looked like a cosy staff room, at a leisure centre, of all places. Today's session different than normal, for once it wasn't a one-to-one lesson because a new boy had joined. My teacher ('call me J.J') looked relieved when the boy explained that he wasn't a total newby, he'd played it for a couple of years, gave up, then decided to take it up again. Selfishly, I was glad that I wouldn't be set too far back by another learner.

"Alex, this is Max." My teacher introduced us with a grin. Of course he was smiling, he'd finally got another student which meant that he also would finally get paid more. "I know, I know, traditionally I should now say 'Max, this is Alex' but I've never seen the point of that because I've already said her name so you know what she's called." J.J rambled. I forced myself to stop staring at my feet because I wanted make a good first impression on Max. I didn't want another person to see me as being weak. I waved and half-smiled. He raised one of his thin blond eyebrows and half-smiled back at me.

"Traditionally..." J.J began "Traditionally you guys would use words instead of waving to each other because it's not like you're so far away that you wouldn't hear what you said to each other. But I like to turn around and stick my middle finger up at traditions."

Max looked quite surprised. But impressed.

I sensed another one of his long babbles coming along, along with his 'I'm a mu-'

"I'm a musician. If all of us stuck to traditions we'd get nothing new and I'd probably be listening to opera right now - not that I have anything against opera. Look at The Beatles, if they stuck to traditions... Anyway, I think you get the idea." The light in his eyes dimmed down and he glanced at a small lopsided clock placed on the wall. Ten past four; and our lesson only lasted an hour.

J.J got me to play whatever pieces I wanted from the book whilst he got Max used to holding the Ukulele and playing some basic chords. I didn't want to at first, I was used to J.J and a few members of my family being the only people who heard me play, but eventually I got past my shyness and forgot that Max was in the same room. It wasn't like he was watching me, he was focused on playing his own pieces from the beginning of the book. I decided that the noises I was making would just sound like background music to him so it didn't matter if I wasn't perfect. Then I began to play some of the harder pieces. I wasn't the kind of person to show off but I suppose I just wanted to make myself look better. I began to play the kind of pieces which I could only just play, the kind of pieces which made people stare at your fast moving fingers in wonder. But my efforts were wasted, as I'd figured out earlier, he was (as he should have been) concentrating on himself.

When the hand on the clock reached five J.J grinned in delight. He pointed at me.

"You've improved!" He turned to face Max. "You've had a great start, if you're serious about this and want to improve, practice. Practising is the answer to everything."

Both of our parents hadn't arrived to pick Max or me up yet so we sat awkwardly on the squishy chairs. I nibbled on the skin around my fingernails.

"How long have you been playing it?" Max asked, breaking the silence.

"Since I was seven." I replied. I hated that feeling, the feeling that I had to say something interesting to make him see me as a different person to what everyone else saw me as. It wasn't that I thought that I was boring; it was more like I was so shy that I only said what I really had to say with no extra detail - which made what I said often boring. I watched him nod his head and stare up at the tiled ceiling. There was another long silent pause.

"When did you play?" I wished I hadn't said it as soon as it came out because some of my words got stuck together and I the more I said the squeakier it became.

"I started when I was five. My Dad taught me. I gave it up when I was seven."

"How come?"

"It became boring. My practising became like a chore so I didn't want to do it anymore."

I was determined to have an actual conversation - with no long pauses between.

"So why did you start again? Do you not think that the same thing will happen?" That also came out way more demanding than I wanted it to.

Max hesitated and looked shifty.

"All these questions! I feel like I'm being interviewed by the police or something..."

I laughed. I really needed to get a grip on my nerves. Yes, this was one of the first people my age to properly talk to me like an actual person for about a year but that was no excuse for my desperation.

"Sorry, my mum's a police woman, maybe it rubs off on me."

"Um..." He began looking thoughtful. "I got into real music. I had thoughts about playing the guitar when I remembered playing this," he held up the black plastic case which held his Ukulele "and I sort of missed it. I was pretty good for a seven year old too."

I glanced at his very blue eyes then decided to look away again in case I was caught staring. The silence settled out again

"What school do you go to?" He asked.

I stood up and pointed out of the window at the building on the other side of the street.

"That one." Again, I wished I had more to add on. Maybe some interesting comment or just an amusing opinion, but my brain was too nervous so I wasn't thinking properly.

"I know someone who goes to that school! Do you know An-" But he was interrupted by my mother opening the very noisy door. She wiggled her eyebrows at me when she saw us both and, I felt gloom settle over my stomach. I knew that tonight I was going to be the one having to answer hundreds of questions.

I wasn't so happy when I got back home. It was teatime and although I got bacon sandwiches (which I love) teatime also meant that night-time was coming closer, which meant that tomorrow I'd have to go back to school. _Eurgh._

**Authors note:**

**Good News: **

**It's the summer holidays, which means I have a lot of time to write, since there is no school.**

**I have planned (in detail) the next ten chapters so I know which direction I'm taking this.**

**During the next few chapters it's like we're fast-forwarding through Alex's teenage life which means MORE CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW… and an actual plot.**

**Bad News:**

**It's the summer holidays, which means that I am going on holiday.**

**I have a family computer so I can only write when no one else is around. This doesn't happen very often.**

**I'm not exactly a completely dedicated writer. I tend to start projects – then get bored and want to start a different project, for example now I want to write a Sweeney Todd or Edward Scissorhands fic. Don't worry, I have no ideas plot-wise and I refuse to think of them until I've finished this. I'm hoping that I finish this… You have my permission to slap me over the Internet if I don't update for weeks/months.**

**This isn't my only 'project'; I love to draw as well which also takes up a lot of my time. **

**When I go back to school I'm in the last year and LOADS OF EXAMS = barely any time to update**

**Why does the bad new always out-weigh the good news?**

**By the way, I do not play the ukulele and I don't even know if you can get lessons for it.**

**I send a huge thank you to you guys who commented, if you didn't there's no way that this chapter would have been written by now. And thanks you guys who added this to your favourites/alerts.**

**Feedback is always appreciated, as is constructive criticism. Please tell me if this makes sense to you.**


	4. Oh Bugger

For the rest of that school year Nicole pretty much left me alone - a little too much alone. It was like I wasn't even there. A few times when I'd been walking out of the school toilets she would barge into me as if she was walking straight through me. Another time she 'accidentally' threw a rounders ball straight into the side of my head when she claimed to have been throwing it at somebody behind me. On plenty of occasions she would slam the classroom door right into my face, but she was careful to do it when Miss Hort wasn't watching. Then the other kids in my class started copying off her; they wouldn't do anything like she did (I'm sure that she wouldn't let them anyway because she wanted to be the only person to do this to me) but not one of them would look at me. I felt like I blended in with the background.

On the last day of school every single person in my class was in tears, or at least had watery eyes. Every person except me. To everyone else school was a place to spend time with your friends, where they could sit back and relax. It clearly wasn't that case for me. As much as I wished that I could happily walk to school each morning like all the other kids did, I couldn't. When the summer holidays would be over we'd move on to secondary school and I would probably never see at least half of them again. Unluckily, Nicole would be going to the same high school as I would be. I just hoped that we wouldn't be put into the same classes and that out of the three hundred people in our year, I'd be able to make at least one friend, since I couldn't do that in our class of twenty people at primary school. My shyness was my worst enemy sometimes.

At the end of the summer holidays I'd get my SATs results which would determine which sets I'd end up in at high school. Also, by the end of the first week of the holidays I became bored. So bored that I even let J.J persuade me to take up playing the guitar. The first few times I felt like a beginner all over again, then I began to get the hang of it and even enjoy playing it. It amused me to watch Max playing on it, he seemed to expect himself to be able to get it straight off and was trying to pursued J.J to teach him to play some Metallica songs. I couldn't really say that I was a fan of Metallica. My holidays consisted of me writing, attempting to draw, attempting to make cakes and practising my guitar. I'd began to get way more comfortable around Max, we even played table tennis a couple of times with each other since we were already at a leisure centre which was surprisingly fun. Especially when I beat him all of the time.

Too many times was my mind brought back to the 'delusion' of when I met Captain Jack Sparrow. What would have happened if it happened whilst I'm in school? How would my mother react if she knew about it? I couldn't ignore the fact that I wanted it to happen again. So after a few moments thought I decided to retrace what happened last time I had a delusion. I placed the DVD in the DVD player and sat back to watch Dead Man's Chest. To my surprise it didn't stop playing or go into extreme slow motion when I reached the point that I got to last time. The film continued to show one of Jack Sparrow's best escape plans yet (even if it was completely unrealistic).

_Jack's figure sprawling in the sand suddenly shot up as he spotted a large ship coming closer to the island from the horizon, with a wicked and knowing smile he ripped some very strong rubber leaves from a nearby tree and proceeded to climb then he tied it high up between two trees at the very edge of the island with his hair. This time the hair wasn't from his back, after all this time it still hadn't had enough time to grow fully, he had to sacrifice two of the large thick dreadlocks from his head off with a sharp pointed shell. To anybody else they probably would have considered it to be a bit extreme to do all that just to make what looked what a hammock, but of course Jack knew what he was doing. He climbed up on of the trees and hitched up his foot and put a little bit of weight on it. The only way to describe the thing was springy. It was so springy that it almost thew him off when it bounced back up after he tested it. He smirked that famous Jack Sparrow smirk and his breath whooshed out of his nose, sounding like how somebody would say 'ha' if they didn't have a mouth. Then the smirk vanished. Jack could see the few of his surviving crewmates desperately swimming towards the island. There must have been at least ten of them - and they were going to be angry when they discovered that Jack took off with the only get away boat, assuming that they hadn't realised that already. He made sure to recover his balance because after all, it was a long way down to the ground even if it was a soft landing. He eyed up the ship that was coming closer and closer to the island, but obviously not close enough for the leftovers of the crew to spot it and swim towards it. _

_"Odd." He muttered, then his eyes bulged and one of the corners of his mouth twitched. The crew were heaving themselves up onto the platform of sand right below where he was perched in the tree, but they were clearly too exhausted at the moment to look at anywhere above them._

_"Just a few more seconds..." Jack whispered to himself. The ship suddenly swerved to avoid crashing into the island but it was still fairly close to the coast. Elizabeth was the only one alert enough to spot it, she leapt to her feet and waved her arms above her head shouting "HEY!" but her voice was drowned out by the noise of the waves making and breaking contact with the sand. It was at that moment when she held her head to the sky that she saw Jack, her mouth opened in outrage and she glared towards him but all that left her mouth was:_

_"I thought that you were a good man, Jack."_

_That got the attention of the crew, they too looked towards where he was stood and shouted various insults. Jack smirked again downwards towards Elizabeth. _

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, darling." He flashed his teeth in the sun before leaping onto what was effectively his home-made trampoline.

_Unfortunately enough for him, after sailing through the air (no pun intented) when he landed on the ship he discovered that it was one of the Royal Navy's ships. Not just one of those, but the one with Lord Beckett himself on it. _

_"Oh bugger." He cursed. Not just because of his unfortunate landings but because the ship's men on board had all turned around and pointed their neatly polished long guns at him. So this is why none of my crew would swim to this ship... Still, he guessed that this would beat slowly starving to death on the island. At least here the chances of escape were much more in Jack's favour - he was way more used to having to escape from situations such as this one. _

_"Cuff him!" An all too familiar voice shouted. He winced as somebody behind him trapped his hands behind his back. Lord Beckett emerged from behind the circle of men with his smug walk and nose in the air. _

_"I see we meet again, pirate." He spoke with a triumphant expression. "This time, Jack Sparrow-"_

_"Captain." Jack corrected immediately with an air of confidence._

_"Mr. Sparrow, you have no ship. How can you possibly be titled as a captain?"_

_"Who's to say I don't have another?" Jack spoke hurriedly, idly fantasising about somehow breaking out of his cuffs, whipping out his sword and somehow turning all of the guns away from him in order to take over this ship. Just temporally until he could find a better one. Lord Beckett raised his eyebrows and his lip curled up. The king's men spluttered with laughter. _

_"As I was saying earlier-" But Lord Beckett was interrupted by a spurt of his own laughter "this time you won't escape the hangman's noose, Sparrow. I've been waiting years to see this and just this time I will have caught 'Captain' Jack Sparrow." He beckoned the King's men. "Tie him up and lock him in one of the cell's below. Oh, and by the way; we're having a lovely trip to Port Royal."_

_Jack twitched again. This was the inevitable end for every pirate, someday or another they got caught. Jack always fancied himself as the pirate who was never caught, the one who always escaped from the consequences of his own actions. In desperation he said,_

_"I have the compass."_

_Lord Beckett turned around with a larger sneer._

_"What good would that do me if I already have what I want?" He turned around to his men. "Lock him up!" Lord Beckett took one look last look at Jack then added in victory "I already have the heart. For once in your life Sparrow - you lose."_

_Always in his life Jack Sparrow had hope. Even in the most desperate of situations. His escapes were legendary but for once he doubted that this time it would be possible. Well, that's not entirely true, only at one occasion in his life Jack had been hopeless: when he made the deal with Davy Jones. He looked round his cell again. No holes in the wall or floor. No sharp objects. No weak spots in the iron bars. No dog who carried around the keys in his mouth. No member of the Royal Navy who he could bribe nearby. No member of his own crew who could - or would - save him. And he couldn't even move his arms or legs for the men had tied his up so that he was curled up with his knees folded to his chest and his hands tied in front of them. Even if he could move them there was still the complication of being chained to one of the iron bars. Even if by some miracle this ship got attacked by, say, a pirate ship and there was a large hole blasted through his cell it's not like he would be able to escape. He would remain chained and tied and would surely drown. At least he would (partially) still have his pirates honour: not to be brought down by authority figures because technically, it would be the pirates who attacked the ship that brought him down even though it would be the authorities fault that he would remain chained. Of course Jack had realised that whilst he was still in this cell it was virtually impossible to escape. He would just have to wait. Unfortunately enough for him, Jack Sparrow did not have much patience._

_A few nights later the ship finally took a well-deserved rest in the bay of Port Royal. Jack had only been given the leftovers of food that the rest of the Royal Navy didn't want, they only wanted to keep him alive for just a few days longer so that they could finally bring the pirate to 'justice'. Any other pirate they probably would have just killed on the spot but killing the legendary escapee Captain Jack Sparrow would serve as a warning to all of the other pirates: the world is getting smaller and the authority is closing in. Quick sounding footsteps thudded towards his cell and Jack smirked at them, he didn't want them believing that they had got him for good even if there was a strong possibility. One of the six members of the Royal Navy unlocked the cell and quickly rearranged Jack's ropes so that he could walk and his hands were firmly tied together behind his back. The man also unlocked the chain that attached Jack to the cell like how the owners of a horse would leave their horses tied to posts. Jack grinned when the six men surrounded him in a clearly well thought out formation before dragging him towards the deck. It made Jack proud that he needed so much security and careful planning. Jack considered lurching towards the man with the slightly vacant expression but decided against it when they reached the deck and fourteen guns were pointed straight at his head. _

"_Ah, , I'm glad that you made it. " Lord Beckett announced as if Jack was here on a voluntary basis. _

"_I can't say that I am." Jack replied with an arrogant grin that made the sunlight reflect off one of his golden teeth. _

"_Of course, I understand completely." The men began marching him closer to the dungeons of Port Royal and Jack's feet didn't feel right on solid ground. "Except for one little detail. How did _you, _pirate, land on our ship?"_

_The King's men began muttering between themselves superstitiously. Jack's grin widened and he did what he did best – he lied, or as he liked to put it, he mislaid the truth._

"_I was placed upon your ship by your almighty God." Jack spoke as if telling the tale troubled him. "You see, after my near death experience with The Kracken I had a vision. During which your God decided to let me live because in those last moments I… I saw the error of my ways." Jack flashed his eyes at the men pointing their guns at him. He knew what they feared and he hoped that if they thought their God was on his side they wouldn't want to disagree with him. 'Religion' he thought '… Pfft'. _

"_But why our ship?" One of the six men asked worriedly and received a glare from Lord Beckett. _

"_He wanted to give me a second chance and he thought that I'd turn my life around and do great deeds if I joined the Navy. So he dropped me on your ship in hope that you'd hold his word to the highest possible standard." _

_The men exchanged more worried glances. Lord Beckett snorted loudly. _

"_He's lying! I told you that the only thing that Sparrow is good at is getting himself out of trouble. Lock him up!"_

_And that is how, ten minutes later Jack Sparrow found himself – once again – locked in that same dungeon of Port Royal._

"_Bugger!" Jack cursed loudly. _


	5. You'll Have To Square With That Some Day

The first few days of high school went surprisingly well. Nicole was too busy trying to make new friends to bother me. I wasn't so lucky with the whole friendship thing. I couldn't just casually chat or even start a conversation with a complete stranger. So instead of trying desperately to make friends with people who I may not even like (or the other way around) I just hung around with Max. Me and Max were in the same classes so at least I had somebody to talk to and walk with between classes. Also, unlike back in primary school, we didn't get the 'Alex-and-Max-sitting-in-a-tree...' chant. I figured that in secondary school people understood that there was a lot of difference between a boy and girl being friends and a boy and girl actually having a romantic relationship. In this school it actually seemed to be a good thing and made you seem more mature. I actually preferred hanging around with boys than girls. A lot of girls who I saw(but certainly not all girls) just spent their time talking about people behind their back, moaning about the way that they look and gossiping about celebrity pop-stars. Plus they had no sense of humour, unlike Max's friends.

One time within the first month of being there I'd been nicknamed 'ging' but also unlike primary school it wasn't said in a nasty way. I definitely preferred the teaching system here than in my primary school too, here the teachers never got too personal and due to being placed into classes of mental abilities I learned a hell of a lot more and at a faster rate because I didn't have to wait so much for the slower learners. Of course, high school had its downsides - mainly being that I'd get trampled when walking through corridors to move to my next lesson and that there was way more people who were in your face and liked to be described as 'well 'ard'.

I completely staid out of trouble for the first term apart from the time when I had a real-dream in a long and boring history lesson. I was in so deep that people thought that I had fainted because they couldn't wake me up.

The first thing that I noticed was somebody swearing very loudly and making clanking noises, the second was that I was no longer in history class. I suppose that logically it should have been the other way around but the third thing that came to my attention was that the voice of the curser sounded like a certain pirate's voice.

The place was too dark for me to see where I actually was, the only light came from the few tiny leftover candles that were burnt down to only a few centimetres thick and placed on some shelves on the grimy walls. I used the swearing as my compass and it quickly directed me to the man himself who was whacking the bars of his cell with his handcuffs. He was so focused on it that it took him a few minutes to notice me but when he did he retreated wearily and looked me over.

"Where the hell did you disappear to? No-no... Scrap that. How the hell did you disappear?"

I bit my lip.

"Like I said before - I can't exactly tell you." Maybe because I didn't know how I did it myself.

"It's a useful trick," he muttered and quickly turned the other way to pace in his cell "one of which I could do with knowing. It would make me the uncatchable Captain Jack Sparrow instead of just the Captain Jack Sparrow who always manages to escape."

I got the feeling that he was talking to himself more than me and I focused on his ever moving feet which had begun pacing around the cell. All of a sudden he whipped around and looked at me.

"Why are you here, lassie? Don't you know that if they find you they'll assume you're an accumplis of mine?"

I thought about this for a few moments and earned a sinking feeling in my stomach when I remembered the old rumour that if you died in a dream you died in real life. But did this count as a dream or an illusion?

"Well," I said brightly "I'd better be on my way then."

"No!" He sounded urgent. "Wait!" He hissed. "I'm willing to bargain with you. If you get me out of here I'll do a favour for you." I bit my lip and he quickly corrected himself. "More than one favour, eh?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"It's quite simple really... I'll even give you a choice - break the bars or find the keys." He flashed a grin. "I am informed that all you need to break these bars is a matter of leverage,"

"Who in their right mind would tell you that?" As soon as the words past my lips I recalled the scene in which Will broke Jack out of his cell which was just as well since Jack didn't bother to answer me. It had been so long since I'd last watched the film... What was it that he had used? A bench? I turned around to inspect behind me and surely enough a falling apart wooden bench was waiting for me. Jack was watching me and he flashed his golden teeth.

"I like your way of thinking, girl."

I ignored his comment and placed my arms underneath one of the ends of the bench and heaved. Nothing happened. Except for a little squeak as instead of lifting the thing up I scraped it a few centimetres along the ground. My arms felt so heavy and they were trembling with the weight of the thing.

I gave up and glared at Jack who was smirking. Who would smirk at the sight of somebody being unable to set them free from a cell? Especially when they would almost certainly be hung till death the following day.

"And just where do I find the keys?" I demanded.

"How the bloody hell would I know?"

I glared at him. I was doing him a favour which would surely save his life and he was being rude to me in return. I should have expected it; after all he was a pirate. I then sighed and wondered down one of the passages with a candle in hand.

"By the way," I heard his voice echo "there used to be a dog which would carry around the keys in its mouth."

_Helpful. _My thoughts snarled sarcastically as I recalled from the film that the dog would no longer be here due to the scene where it was being chased by all of the natives on the island.

My eyes scanned the barely visible walls searching for a hook of some sort or a coat that had been left behind. No luck. I growled in frustration to myself. I needed to find it and quick - in case an official came down here and found me. Or heard me. I gulped. It was pretty obvious that I wasn't supposed to be here. In the first film weren't there guards which got killed by pirates at the entrance to stop people entering? On the other hand, this meant that they wouldn't take precautions with leaving keys in the dungeons if they only expected guards to be down there.

I bit my lip again and upped my pace.

"Keys, keys, keys keys keys." I mumbled as if chanting their name would help summon them. I almost laughed at myself when I saw something reflecting light upon one of the stone walls opposite me. Something metal... My hopes rose with the distance closed between myself and the object especially as the closer I got the more it looked like something hanging from the ceiling. I grinned at reached up a hand to snatch it.

It was that moment when I heard some footsteps in the distance and sunlight began to creep into the passage. Then, very carefully, as not to jangle the keys and give away my where-abouts, I pocketed them.

The footsteps were becoming louder and louder and the person who was advancing was now close enough that I could hear them muttering to themselves. I realised at that moment that I had two choices:

1. Hide and wait for the person to do whatever it is that they wanted to and return to Jack later. However if this person was working here they may be taking Jack to the noose right now.

2. Rush and risk being caught.

I ventured for the second option because in an odd way it seemed less risky. I ran as quietly as I could make through the way that I came and reached Jack's cell.

"Ah," He said with a smile as he saw me fumbling in my pocket for the keys, "I see that you have found them." I stuck the key in the door and flinched at the impending echoes of footsteps.

"Quiet!" I hissed at him and swung open the door. Ironically, it gave a loud creak and my mouth hung open. The footsteps increased to a running pace. "We've got to get out of here... Now!" He wasted a few seconds stumbling out of the cell and glancing around.

"Hate to break it to you but that is our only exit." He murmured and lifting a hand to point at the sound of ever impending doom. Except that his other hand had to come with it because of the handcuffs. I groaned and lifted my hand towards my head. He stood by the corner which led to another passage in a way that if anybody suddenly ran in they wouldn't see him until it would be too late. I hastily stood behind the pirate who wore a gloating smile.

"Glad there's only one of them..." He mumbled to himself and a figure emerged in the form of a shadow. Then all of a sudden he swung out his fists and I watched as the shadow of a man collapsed and morphed into a lump lying on the floor. Jack hastily tiptoed around the unconscious body and I followed behind him, unwilling to be left behind.

Considering that it was very dark Jack seemed to know the passages very well and I wondered how many times he'd been down here and it was a matter of seconds before we saw daylight creeping in. This time it brought me a huge relief to see it instead of dread and I was about to happily walk out from the dark when something stopped me. It was a hand. I looked up questioningly at his face and he mouthed the word 'guards'.

I retreated back into the shadows and watched as he noiselessly crept up to the door where I presumed the guards stood. It was at that moment when I realised that we would be a little bit screwed if there was more than three of them. Or maybe I was just underestimating Jack's miraculous escape abilities. His arm crept forwards and I heard a muffled 'mmffft!' coming from a guard that he had dragged go far backwards that I could clearly see that Jack's hand was over his mouth. The guards were expecting trouble from the other side of the door but of course, his mouth wasn't muffled enough that it didn't escape the attention of another guard who was presumably standing in the same watch space. However, during these few seconds Jack had enough time snatch the guard's gun from his unsuspecting hands. _Genius._

There was a cry of 'hey!' when Jack turned the gun to point at the guard's head from another guard who came rushing in with his gun pointed a few long seconds too late. Jack grinned again and gestured to the mobile guard to stand further into the passage.

"Drop the gun." His voice was soft but it had a strong authority to it and the gun in the other man's hands reluctantly clattered to the floor. Jack began to take long steps with his captured guard to the source of the light and I had to move quickly to keep up with him. At last, we reached outside.

"Ladies and gentlemen - or maybe just gentlemen." He gloated and prepared to push the man in his arms forwards. "You will always remember this as the day that you almost caught Capt-"

He was interrupted by me impatiently tugging his arm. I wasn't going to stand around and wait until the guard in the passage picked up his gun again. Jack turned his head and his eyes lit up when he saw the sea sparkling in the sunlight calling for him. Then all this was lost. What use was the sea when your ship had been completely destroyed? And not just any ship; to him The Black Pearl was irreplaceable and sorrow filled his eyes.

"We need to go!" I hissed.

"I am well aware of that and may I remind you that last time you miraculously appeared we established that I am captain around here." He readjusted the gun so that it was digging into the guards temple and continued his speech from a few moments ago, "Captain Jack Sparrow!". I braced myself to run and the guard was thrust forwards back towards the dungeons.

"Now is the time to need to go." Jack murmured and began to sprint at an impossible speed. I was moving so fast, trying to keep up with him that I had no idea what direction I was heading in, what I was running through, where I was running and more importantly; if anybody saw us.

It took a lot of time (by which it got to the point where I was gasping for air) before Jack decided to take a quick break in a dark area underneath some tropical trees.

"Where..." I heaved sitting on the dry ground. "Are... We... Going?"

"I don't know why you seem to be assuming that we're going to stick together, love."

"Because you owe me." I argued but it came out breathless.

"I am well aware of that," he grinned again and the sinking feeling grew in my stomach, "and someday I will pay you back on my terms. Until then you can stop following me."

**Authors note: As if I've been started writing this a few months ago and I'm only on chapter five. I have barely any free time anymore and the spare time that I do have is filled with art and me writing a Sweeney Todd fic (which I am going to complete before posting this time) which is already over three times as long as this fic. Uck.**

**Thankyou's and virtual hugs go out to The Red Crayon ****and ****Evangeline Crystal ****for all of their comments.**


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